


Servatis a Maleficum

by sirenofodysseus



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: AU-Season Three, F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-17
Updated: 2013-04-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:57:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/764292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirenofodysseus/pseuds/sirenofodysseus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking back, it had probably been the worst decision she could have ever made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Servatis a Maleficum

Lisbon glanced down at Craig O’Laughlin from her spot at the head of the silver table; her hands hung over the chair as she tried not to glance at Rigsby or Grace, who both averted their eyes elsewhere. It was bad enough that the FBI agent had been following her own people due to Visualize, but the very fact that the bastard had crashed directly into her girlfriend sent her over the edge in a fit of rage. She knew from the filed police report that O’Laughlin could have stopped his own damn vehicle at the light, but no, the ass had decided to plow straight into the car.

 

Both of her agents, luckily, had managed to survive the crash with no injuries, which she had been more than thankful for. It hadn’t, however, stopped her heart from nearly jumping out of her chest, especially when she had gotten the call from the hospital about it. Her first thought, besides not arresting (or shooting) the second party involved in the crash, had been to jump into her car and rush down to Sacramento General.

 

Even though the nurse had said both agents were completely fine and the second party (Craig O’Laughlin) had been the only one to retain an injury, Lisbon had wanted to soothe her own fears that her girlfriend was indeed alive and not lying off in a morgue somewhere, dead.  Jane, however, who had been on her couch when she had received the call, merely stopped her with a vague statement that Hightower was closely watching them all, which had made her rethink her entire plan and glance at him in masked astonishment. It didn’t exactly surprise her that Jane had known about her eight month strong relationship with Grace, but it _did_ surprise her that he had remained oddly quiet about them until then.

 

            “What you did was reckless,” she addressed the redheaded agent, who trembled slightly beneath her stare. Lisbon almost felt horrible about snapping at her girlfriend, but they were at work and right now, she was her supervising agent. “I should bring you up for departmental discipline.” Lisbon turned her head slightly to glance at O’Laughlin. “But he shouldn’t have been following you,” she glanced back at Grace, who tried to maintain an emotionless façade, “so I’m going to let it pass.” Without regret, Lisbon aimed her stare at O’Laughlin again. “And you tell your boss if she wants to catch bad guys, she should follow bad guys.” She threw him a tempered smile, and turned on her heels to leave the bullpen before she could somehow manage to wrap her hands around O’Laughlin’s neck to find Jane lingering outside her office.

 

He greeted her with a giant grin and she rolled her eyes. “I see you haven’t murdered O’Laughlin yet. I’m sure Hightower will be very pleased.”

 

Lisbon fixed him with a dark glare, as she stood in front of him. “What do you want Jane?” Jane opened his mouth to speak, when he abruptly closed his mouth and raised his eyebrows at something behind her. “What?” She furrowed her eyebrows in response and waited for him to answer, but didn’t to her immediate frustration. “Jane?” His smile only grew wider.

 

            “It looks like somebodyis flirting with Grace,” Jane said with a low whistle and Lisbon rolled her eyes again. If the consultant was fishing for a reaction from her, she wasn’t going to give him the ultimate satisfaction of actually getting one. “It looks like someone might have competition, Lisbon.” Lisbon blinked in response, before she turned her head slightly to glance over her shoulder to find O’Laughlin and Grace standing close together; a slight smile across both of their faces, which only made Lisbon clench her fists and grit her teeth. O’Laughlin had almost killed Grace and he wanted to _flirt_ with her? It wasn’t happening! She turned on her heels to interrupt them, when Jane’s voice halted her. “Grace can handle herself, Lisbon. If she can’t get rid of Mr. Tall in there, it’s because she’s too nice and not because she…”

 

            “Agent Craig O’Laughlin,” Lisbon interrupted him, abruptly. Jane whistled lowly again; he, unlike the rest of them, apparently had no ill feelings toward the feds trying to snatch a case from them. _Then again_ , Lisbon mused silently with a slight frown, _O’Laughlin isn’t trying to investigate Red John either._

            “He’s an FBI agent?” Jane asked and Lisbon nodded, as she turned back around to face him.

 

            “Yes, Jane,” Lisbon replied in a sigh; she couldn’t see exactly what significance that question even held toward O’Laughlin and Grace’s conversation, but she answered him anyway.

 

            “What is he doing here?” Jane continued his run of what seemed like an endless game of twenty-questions, much to her mounting irritation. “Besides flirting with Grace, of course.” Lisbon narrowed her eyes in response to his wide smile. Work or not, Jane was going to get another punch to the nose if he didn’t shut his mouth about O’Laughlin.

 

            “He thought we were working for Visualize,” Lisbon explained and Jane chuckled, obviously amused by the very thought that any of themwould work for Bret Stiles or Visualize. Before Lisbon could say anything else to Jane, O’Laughlin stepped from the bullpen and started past them. She briefly wondered if she should go after O’Laughlin and try to scare him away from Grace, when Jane beat her to the punch.

 

            “Hey, excuse me!” Jane started toward O’Laughlin, who turned around to stare at both of them. “You’re the FBI guy…right?” Lisbon fought against her overwhelming urge to punch the FBI agent in the face, as both men talked, by shoving her hands in her pockets and holding her breath. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know from the way O’Laughlin spoke and stood that he didn’t exactly like Jane, which didn’t surprise her. Jane, probably from the FBI’s point of view, was seen as a menace; he wasn’t a by-the-book consultant, he was an extremely loose cannon, and though he didn’t own any weapons; his words were just as, if not more than, dangerous than her own beloved gun. “…Bret Stiles, right?”

 

O’Laughlin spared her a look, as he spoke. “I guess that’s common knowledge by now.” Lisbon nodded slightly in reply, because it was. Jane went back to speaking to O’Laughlin and she tuned them both out again; O’Laughlin’s brashness toward Jane continued to grate on her nerves, until she watched him turn on his heels and leave them both with absolutely nothing. 

 

            “…we have to get back to Visualize,” Jane told her and Lisbon couldn’t help but agree, even though she knew she would need a reason as to _why_ from him.

 

            “Why is that?” Lisbon questioned; she almost sighed as he explained his reasoning, but _anything_ was better than thinking about Grace _or_ O’Laughlin at that moment.

 

She threw him a somewhat reluctant nod, because she didn’t want to appear too eager. “I’ll get my coat.” Lisbon hurried into her office, grabbed her black coat from the coat rack, and left, before she could do anything that she (and Grace, in turn) would ultimately regret later.

* * *

 With the porch light on, Lisbon unlocked the door to her home and took a moment to relinquish in the icy blast that the AC provided her with. She shut and locked the door behind her with one hand, shrugged her black coat off onto the floor, and barely even had enough time to kick her shoes off, before she had her arms full of a tall, slender redhead.

 

Lisbon wrapped her arms around Grace without hesitation. Usually, contact like this wasn’t something she’d enjoy or allow herself indulge in, but Grace needed it. _We both do_ , Lisbon corrected herself, as she buried her own face into Grace’s soft shoulder to soothe her own fears by listening to her girlfriend’s soft breathing, underneath the distant hum of the AC. Neither of them said anything for a few moments, until Lisbon pulled away; her arms still wrapped fully around Grace’s waist.

 

            “What you did today, I can’t even…” Lisbon paused to press her lips together and stare up at Grace, whose eyes were rimmed red. “You have no idea what went through my mind when I got that call, Grace.” Grace closed her eyes and even with her trembling lips and puffy eyelids, Lisbon thought she was beautiful. She could honestly see what O’Laughlin seen in her, but Grace was hers and if he came back, she’d tell him off for getting unnecessary ideas. “I’m just beyond thankful that you and Rigsby are okay.” Her girlfriend sniffled and Lisbon sighed lowly. “I’m not angry with you. I’m upset that you would care so very little for your life, especially after all the death we see every day.”

 

Grace opened her brown eyes, which shone with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Teresa.” Her voice was painfully small, and it killed Lisbon to hear the sadness in her voice.

 

Lisbon nodded. “It’s okay.” Grace gave her another hug, which Lisbon returned, before they both pulled away from each other. “You hungry?” They both needed a distraction and as far as she was concerned, food wasn’t a bad idea—after all, she _was_ hungry. She had been on the hunt for a killer, followed Jane down the rabbit hole to catch said killer, and had skipped lunch over her anxiety for Grace’s wellbeing.

 

            “Not really…” Grace trailed off and Lisbon sighed again.

 

            “You have to eat, Grace,” Lisbon informed her with a gentle stare. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you playing with your food during lunch.” Grace’s cheeks flared bright red and the redhead bowed her head. Anxiety had always unsettled Grace’s stomach, and it constantly worried her that Grace was going to make herself sick. “Come on.” Lisbon said, as she grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and yanked her toward the kitchen. Changing out of her work clothes could wait until later. “We’ll fix something together, how does that sound?” Grace said nothing, though she stopped them both in their tracks. “Grace?”

 

Grace’s response was to bend down and capture her warm lips in a kiss, and the matter of the car crash and O’Laughlin was lost between them both, as Lisbon slipped her tongue between Grace’s slightly parted and wet lips to return the kiss.

* * *

The next day brought an ungodly insane amount of paperwork, which had tied up her entire morning, as a Bret Stiles’ case always seemed to do. Jane had wisely spent the entire morning avoiding her, except for the text he had sent her nearly an hour ago about O’Laughlin.

 

Apparently, O’Laughlin had decided to show back up at the CBI with the grand intention to thank her, although all the man had done thus far was irritate her further by “chatting” with Grace for almost an hour before he had eventually stopped by her office to say, “The FBI thanks you and your team, Agent Lisbon.”

 

It took nearly everything in her power _not_ to jump from her seat and throttle him with her bare hands. Instead, she had wisely chosen to clench her pen tightly and give him a tight smile in response.

 

            “My pleasure, Agent,” She easily lied, because honestly, she and the rest of the CBI couldn’t care more about the FBI and their faux praises. O’Laughlin merely eyed her with a smile.

 

In front of her desk, O’Laughlin slid into one of her two chairs and she silently groaned. “Agent Lisbon?” Playing nice with the FBI continued to be a pain in her ass, and playing with O’Laughlin was no different. She said nothing in response and he continued on. “I know the FBI and the CBI aren’t on good terms, but I don’t appreciate the rude treatment I get around here for talking to Agent Van Pelt.”

 

Lisbon almost rolled her eyes; the pretentious ass was just asking to be shot, really.

 

            “Agent Rigsby, I think that is his name, continues to glare at me from his desk when I engage Agent Van Pelt in conversation,” O’Laughlin stated and Lisbon didn’t find Rigsby’s behavior exactly surprising. Everybody knew Rigsby had feelings for Grace. “Agent Cho doesn’t speak to me.” Lisbon did roll her eyes on that one. “And Mr. Jane,” O’Laughlin didn’t bother hiding his disdain for the consultant from her, “continues to make comments about Agent Van Pelt’s intentions being already ‘taken’.” She imagined herself strangling Jane for saying _anything_ like that to O’Laughlin, when said agent spoke again. “And you continue to glare at me when I’m talking to her, Agent Lisbon.” Lisbon pursed her lips. She knew the man was ignorant, oblivious or dense in her blatant dislike for him. “Is there anything I should know?”

 

Admitting to O’Laughlin that Grace was her girlfriend would have been a bad idea. Both she and Grace had decided to remain hushed on the subject and although, it caused them both problems (Lisbon wasn’t blind to hers and Grace’s attractiveness, especially with being two females in the positions of power.) they remained quiet, due to Hightower’s strict no interdepartmental dating policy. So, she did the only plausible thing she could have done.

 

She glared him down and snarled, “what are you implying, Agent?”

 

            “Nothing,” he responded and she didn’t believe him at all. “I just wanted to know why you, the senior agent is getting all bent out of shape about me, an FBI agent having conversations with your rookie.”

 

_Because she’s my girlfriend_ , Lisbon thought with yet another glare at the idiot. Could he just not take a hint and leave?

 

            “You’d better watch yourself, Agent O’Laughlin,” Lisbon said, lowly.

 

O’Laughlin stood from his chair with a strained smile and replied, “No, Agent Lisbon. It is _you_ , who had best watch yours and Agent Van Pelt’s footsteps.” He left her office, before she could even manage to react to his words. Did O’Laughlin know something about them? Grace hadn’t told him, had she?

 

During lunch, she had managed to sneak away from the paperwork and take Grace out for a coffee down the block from the CBI to ask her about O’Laughlin. Grace had shrugged him off and Lisbon, who trusted Grace with every fiber of her being, begrudgingly let the subject go.

 

            “It’s not worth it, Lisbon,” Grace responded with a smile. “Craig’s only being nice.” Lisbon, who had just taken a gulp of her coffee, nearly sputtered. When had the two gotten on first name basis? Grace leaned in closer, as if she were sharing a secret and whispered, “Jealously suits you, Teresa.” The redhead laughed and Lisbon scowled. It wasn’t funny. “We’re talking about football, something you won’t discuss with me.” _And for good reason_ , Lisbon thought. “Craig isn’t you, no matter how much Jane insinuates that he is the male version of you.” Lisbon grimaced again; Jane couldn’t shut up, could he? Why in the world would he even make that comparison? “Trust me, okay?”

 

She did.

 

And looking back, it had probably been the worst decision she could have ever made.

* * *

Over the next few months, everything seemed fine; she and Grace celebrated their first year, Jane had managed not to get arrested again, and even though, O’Laughlin had become one of Grace’s best friends, the agent had stopped showing up at the office every day to annoy them all, which had made things smoother for everybody involved.

 

However, as the seasons changed from fall to somewhat of a winter to the spring, her and Grace’s relationship became completely different. Grace insisted nothing was wrong between them, but Lisbon had a gut feeling that said otherwise.

 

Grace had started to spend more time alone, her answers became shorter and shorter, and sometimes at night, she would wake to find Grace standing above her with tears dripping down her cheeks.

 

            “What’s wrong?” Lisbon had asked, groggily one May early morning and Grace said nothing in response, as she crawled back into bed and slept fitfully for the rest of the night. It had troubled her beyond what was normal, but Jane had reassured her over a cup of tea that all relationships had periods like this.

 

            “Give her time,” Jane soothed, “or ask O’Laughlin.”

 

Of course, if Grace wasn’t alone, she was with O’Laughlin. That disturbed her even more.

 

            “She’ll come around, eventually,” Jane continued. “But if not,” Jane threw her a playful smile and she knew exactly where he was going with this, “you can always have me.”

 

Lisbon rolled her eyes, it wasn’t going to happen. “Just because you have a girl name, Jane, doesn’t make you a girl in all aspects.”

 

He chuckled. “I’m just kidding.” She laughed too, trying to get rid of the anxiety that bubbled within the pit of her stomach. Jane took her hand, all-joking aside for the moment, with an understanding look. “Trust me, Lisbon.”

 

She really wished she could have, too.

* * *

One call from Jane about who the mole was, had her going for her gun attached to her hip. Red John had planted O’Laughlin within the CBI to bleed information from them all, and to throw them all off his trail.   

 

O’Laughlin, when she glanced back up at him, had his gun aimed at her almost apologetically. She readied herself to pull the trigger on her own gun, but she had no chance before she felt an intense pain shoot through her abdomen, and her gun tumbled from her hands to clatter onto the ground.

 

Her hands immediately went for her abdomen and they returned red, and it was then, that Lisbon noticed O’Laughlin hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger.

 

Grace had.

 

            “I’m sorry, Teresa. I truly am.”

 

And whether it had been from the heartbreak, the betrayal, the fact O’Laughlin had shot her again, or a combination of all three; her heart stopped beating after the sound of a third fleeting gunshot.


End file.
